


Occupational Hazard

by DHeitchou12892



Category: Gangsta. (Anime), Gangsta. (Manga), Gangsta. CURSED (Manga)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, DIDDLY IN SECOND CHAPTER, Dark Humor, Deaf Character, Depressing, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, JFC SO MANY TAGS, LIKE like, Lemon, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Morbid, Mutual Pining, NSFW, Occupational Hazards, Pining, Pre-Slash, Sarcasm, Sexual Content, Slash, Smut, Teen Sex, Underage Sex, WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT GOD, Yaoi, a lot of sarcasm, haha - Freeform, i cant, maybe? - Freeform, pffft, see you then
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 11:39:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4665156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DHeitchou12892/pseuds/DHeitchou12892
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It left his thoughts with the only thing that his brain had a reservoir for; Worick. He often thought about his friend, or at least he thought they were friends, in his down time.</p><p>Occupational hazard, he supposed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Occupational Hazard

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there!  
> Here I go again, I seriously just can't stay away from these two little adorable piece of shit beautiful assholes too good, too pure for this world! ^u^  
> Ahhhh, my children. But also my parents, but also my sandwhich, but als-  
> Ok...  
> RACE YOU TO THE BOTTOM (BADAM-TSS!!!!!!!!!!!! BOTTOM GET IT??? YAOI???? HAHAHAHAH!11?!!? OK BYE)  
> *stumbles over Disclaimer* AH WTF, WHO PUT THIS HE- oh... I did, well WHY DID I EVEN BOTHER *huffs* whatever
> 
> Disclaimer: Don't own it or else this would be canon...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swerving away from murder, the train of thought crossed over that memory again, focusing, for some reason, on thirteen year old Worick blushing. Adorable, Nic snickered.
> 
> And again, he couldn't understand how Worick's father could beat such a pretty thing without remorse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!  
> Here I go again, I seriously just can't stay away from these two little adorable piece of shit beautiful assholes too good, too pure for this world! ^u^  
> Ahhhh, my children. But also my parents, but also my sandwhich, but als-  
> Ok...  
> RACE YOU TO THE BOTTOM (BADAM-TSS!!!!!!!!!!!! BOTTOM GET IT??? YAOI???? HAHAHAHAH!11?!!? OK BYE)  
> *stumbles over Disclaimer* AH WTF, WHO PUT THIS HE- oh... I did, well WHY DID I EVEN BOTHER *huffs* whatever  
> Disclaimer: Don't own it or else this would be canon...

He focuses on the grain of the hardwood floor, not sure of what else to do, as he waits silently.

Boredom consumes him and he stands abruptly, trying to startle away the feeling that so often comes to him.

He should be used to it by now, sure, but he's always caught off guard by the lack of things to do without Worick there. His contract holder is never without ideas or snide comments to rile his partner, but he has a client right now, one he'd said he would be with for the last tendrils of sunlight, and then some.

It was dark outside now, almost pitch black without the illumination of the quarter moon.

As Nicolas trudged up the creaky stairs, he thought as he eyed the bookshelf for the hundredth time since he walked into the house that evening, about reading a book to relieve his brain of this unnecessary and annoying feeling. As soon as the thought popped into his mind, however; he groaned and shook his head.

_Really not in the mood_ , he thought. Grumpiness had settled in with the fact that he had literally _nothing_ to do.

He would have gone back to doing pull-ups and push-ups, but after 100 of each, he'd gotten restless. Even so, there was no way in hell he could go to sleep. He'd just end up tossing and turning.

So he stood still in the middle of the living room, searching for anything to do in the godforsaken place.

Finding nothing that caught his eye, he sighed. And even though he couldn't hear it, he felt stupid using sign language by himself, and his thoughts wouldn't do it justice. Instead, he tuned the vibrations in his throat to half yell, half say "What the fuck" in a, what he hoped was, annoyed tone.

It amused him to think about noise. _What was that like_ , he wondered.

But even as he tried to distract himself from boredom with thoughts that could possibly strike a conversation between him and the other tenant, he huffed through his nose and plopped down on the couch unceremoniously.

He stretched out horizontally on the sofa. Then he spread his limbs to make a star with his body. He flipped himself over with his arms at his sides and legs tight against each other. Stuffing his head into the couch cushion, he let out an involuntary chuckle before yelling into the cushion.

He was so bored.

His mind drifted as he pulled his face out of the couch. He knew Worick wouldn't be home until tomorrow, and Nicolas also knew that he couldn't fall asleep until the very crack of dawn.

Going out was out of the question. With the hunts and killings on the rise, he was ordered to stay put.

It left his thoughts with the only thing that his brain had a reservoir for; Worick. He often thought about his friend, or at least he thought they were friends, in his down time.

_Occupational hazard_ , he supposed. Turning his body to face the ceiling, he entwined his fingers over his chest, a gesture he had seen on the dead men with coffins ready for burial at the Monroe estate.

Nic thought about Worick's blond hair. He was being completely honest with himself right now. It was like his own game of truth or dare, or sharing secrets with a friend. In this case, and most other, he was his own friend. He flipped his internal voices to understanding, and unknowingly shooed off the boredom.

He had seen hair of many colors. Ergastulum was a city of diversity if nothing else, and it threw normality to the wind.

However, he had to admit that he fancied the color of his friend's hair. And the blond teen had admitted to the other that it's slow elongation had been due to " _Popular demand_ ," from his clientele, no doubt.

But Nicolas couldn't complain, it was a good look on his friend.

His mind blanked, and he took the lack of thoughts as a reason to twitch his brows in frustration.

Not wanting to be bored again, he rushed to the basement for a change of scenery. He laid on the floor, grunting and furrowing his brows, hoping that somehow, by sheer miracle, the jolts of energy jumping from the friction between the carpet and his cargo pants as he wriggled and writhed in a silent tantrum, would transfer to his stale brain.

Anything to kill the dead feeling in his head.

And, as if frightened by the proposition, his brain produced a thought. Turning it over in his head, as though he were a chef questioning a newbie's custom plate, he accepted it with raised eyebrows and a proud frown. _That'll do_.

The topic was still Worick's hair and Nic shrugged internally, _better than nothing_.

He'd felt the hair before, either on accident or paired with playful bickering, having to agree with the customers. But it worried him slightly, that Worick let them touch his hair, because sure enough, in his line of work, that meant they'd be allowed to pull at it.

He was keenly aware of his friend's weaknesses in order to compensate for them, and he had noted long ago, once witnessing the Arcangelo's father tugging mercilessly at the blond locks only three _hard_ times before he had the child bawling, that the blond hair was one of them.

It had confused Nicolas for some time before he had killed the blond's father, before he had asked why it only took three for his shoulders to quake when the thick bottles only drew thin streams of salty hate onto his cheeks.

He blushed, whether out of embarrassment for the question, the answer, or the origin of either, "I have hyper sensitive follicles on my head," he said, not bothering to move his hands, one rubbing at his neck and the other in his lap, "it's a... a hereditary thing." and then he added as an afterthought, "from _her_ side."

_Her_ , Nic thought. Yeah, he knew what the young Arcangelo meant. He'd received a hereditary weakness from a _her_ as well.

Swerving away from murder, the train of thought crossed over that memory again, focusing, for some reason, on thirteen year old Worick blushing. _Adorable_ , Nic snickered.

And again, he couldn't understand how Worick's father could beat such a pretty thing without remorse.

He supposes the other teen would say the same about him had he been there with Nic, sharing his thoughts. But Nicolas couldn't help argue that it wasn't the same.

Shaking his piggy bank of thoughts like an impatient child at a candy shop, he stirred a recent memory to the forefront of his mind.

On one of their deliveries for the Doctor, they had stumbled upon a stray kitten. It was quite scrawny and it fur was matted with the dirt of Ergastulum, much like their own.

Worick faced his friend and laughed at the cat, "It looks like me!" he had blurted out, Nicolas found later, involuntarily.

He could only shake his head at how _wrong_ the other boy was, and he realized that Worick's perception of himself was quite distorted. He didn't mean to offend the poor cat, but it was ugly, terribly so. It was scarred up and weak, an ugly brown color.

[Me.] Nicolas had signed after Worick. After widening his eyes in realization of his mistake, the blond laughed, covering his slipped up feelings towards himself from earlier.

Nicolas' thoughts slowly strayed from there. It was at this point that things went downhill for his pride that night.

Suddenly, his brain bombarded him with images of his companion smiling. It was like a faint slideshow in his mind, slowing taking up all of his attention. He watched intently with eyes closed as they gradually changed to gazes of the others sleeping form.

A few pictures of Worick after coming out of the shower; a sight to behold, if Nic's honesty was anything to go by. He liked to "air dry" as he had called it, and it gave his raven haired friend quite the headache from having to feign innocence of the human body.

Had Worick somehow forgotten he was male too, and had known where _things_ lie?

The dips and sharp edges of Worick under nothing but glistening water droplets and a short towel riding low on a set of muscles that rivaled Nic's own. They'd acquired the form through different exercises, the raven's being the much more traditional while Worick's own had been self-proclaimed as "another self-maintenance kink."

Then, there was the rare collection of ingrained photos he hadn't known had been ingrained of Worick with his customers.

They were involuntary side-glances through a climbed window or a guarded alley. He was there for protection and Worick had known. What he hadn't known was that he had peeked. It wasn't his fault. _Occupational hazard!_

But soon enough, feelings came into play. They were good feelings, the brunette had to admit, once they were dealt with. But not a moment after.

Nicolas hadn't realized until now, that looking through his photo album had sprung on him a recently more common pest. It was gradually becoming more and more a nuisance. Yet another pain in the neck that came with being Nicolas Brown.

Sitting up, he breathed out a sigh, hoping to will away the erection. Needless to say, it hadn't worked.

He groaned in frustration and then laughed, remembering the awkward, and one-sided, conversation that the Doctor had pulled him into a few years ago. He hadn't had this problem then, but she had predicted t right. A horny teenager was a horny teenager, no matter who said what about it.

He supposed that Worick had already known or had been given the talk by the Doctor months after she had treated his eye, when he realized he had to start selling his body.

With an uncomfortable boner, there's not much that Nicolas could do to stop him from relieving himself. He stretched his legs out in front of him, and sat back with his palms holding his weight.

_This is so fucked up_ , he thought, chuckling morbidly with his eyes on his now exposed dick and his mind on a friend.

He put his fingers in his mouth, slicking them up with spit before hesitantly, yet solidly grabbed hold of his hard on.

He felt his breath hitch and he cursed the God who made him _like_ like his friend. His hand was good company, but his mind wandered to a different pair of hands that worked stubbornly to heal wounds deemed small enough to avoid the clinic.

Hands whose owner demand he lift his shirt after every job to inspect the smaller boy, tracing each jumping and shuddering muscle, wondering if his hand was cold with an eyebrow raised. _How does he control this urge?_ Nicolas thought, pumping his hand at different speeds for different intervals. He wants to laugh at his own careless stupidity, _He doesn't have these urges. Not for me, he's got all the sex he could want... Not that he wants it to begin with._

The Twilight breathes heavily as his semen leaks over his fingers, he lowers his back to the ground. He shoves two of the fingers from his now unoccupied hand into his mouth, imagining Worick being forceful and gentle with him.

While he thumbs the head of his cock, a name falls from his lips in soft wet syllables. Spreading his legs, he positions himself against the floor so that his left hand moves to his behind and he can delicately slip a finger inside himself before biting his lip to stop the vibrations in his throat from escaping his mouth.

Panting and bucking into his own hand, he knows he will be doing this for a while. A Twilight's tolerance is not one to mess with, and Nicolas knows this. Patience is a virtue, but Nicolas is not exactly known to be virtuous.

He relaxes against his index finger and breathes as his middle finger joins the first, his eyes closing in guilty pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SWEAR I GOT HERE FIRST, I WIN, HAH FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> [*points at race car-shaped blanket behind me* What's over ther-?]  
> SHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> [bu-]  
> SHHT!  
> [...]  
> *nods* Ok then.  
> The next chapter will be out soon! \\(^o^)/  
> While you wait impatiently //SARCASM//, check out my Tumblr (fab2twerk4u and dirtygangstaconfessions)  
> Leave a comment please! Thanks, bye!

**Author's Note:**

> I SWEAR I GOT HERE FIRST, I WIN, HAH FUCK YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> [*points at race car-shaped blanket behind me* What's over ther-?]  
> SHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> [bu-]  
> SHHT!  
> [...]  
> *nods* Ok then.  
> The next chapter will be out soon! \\(^o^)/  
> While you wait impatiently //SARCASM//, check out my Tumblr (fab2twerk4u and dirtygangstaconfessions)  
> Leave a comment please! Thanks, bye!


End file.
